


coffee and capitalism

by foucqre



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Rubber Ducks, happens sometime after s11 but ignores the finale, it is 3 am i should not be awake, so much peanut butter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 09:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foucqre/pseuds/foucqre
Summary: Castiel needs to work on his talking skills, Dean needs to ease off the Nutella (ha), and striped ties should not be eaten.





	coffee and capitalism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cxssiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxssiel/gifts).



Dean had never thought angels were real, much less that he would ever meet one. Still, he had always thought they were these supreme beings: capable of the impossible, defenders of the weak.

"Dean I'm not sure I understand the function of a rubber duck."

This was the supreme being he had prayed to. 

He took back the yellow duck from the other man before he made a scene. People were starting to look their way. "These are for kids, Cas," Dean gestured with the duck. "They use 'em for taking baths." He replaced the duck on its display.

There was a promotional display for crackers which, for some reason, involved a hundred ducks stacked in pyramids. Dean felt the scrutiny of the painted eyes. It was as though each duck was judging him and he felt personally offended.

"So these yellow ducks are... bathroom companions?" A crease appeared between his brows, showing how truly confused he felt. Castiel read the slogan- Quackin' good taste! -and stared at the smiling cartoon duck giving a thumbs-up. He couldn't help but wonder how crackers were involved in the process.

"That's one way of saying it." Dean moved their groceries to his other hand. "I've got the tomato sauce, now let's go." He checked the list Sam had given them. Coffee was underlined twice. The post script read _note: do not buy 5 jars of peanut butter. again. repeat: do not._ Dean snorted. As if his little brother could stop him from getting a dozen jars if he wanted.

"Why did you feel the need to buy five jars of peanut butter?" Dean suddenly noticed Cas at his elbow, reading the grocery list. The hunter was so used to this invasion of privacy he didn't even comment on it, choosing to ignore the question.

"Another story for another time." He started walking down the aisle, looking for the coffee he liked and Sam tolerated. Castiel was on his heels, curiously studying the different brands and products they passed.

"These are the same product, aren't they?" Cas asked as they stopped to grab some ground coffee. He picked up two containers. "Why are there so many different brands?"

"Because capitalism, Cas." That made no sense to the former angel, but he sensed that asking for a clarification would further confuse him. 

Across the aisle, a child was seated in a grocery cart while her mother scanned the shelves. She smiled at Castiel and made grabby hands for his striped tie. Confused but compliant, he stepped forward and held out the cloth, wondering why he was doing this. The child giggled before stuffing it into her mouth, grinning toothily around the tie. He couldn't help but return the smile as she began to laugh again.

"Sweetie? Oh!" Her mother came back just as she was drooling onto Cas's tie. "I'm so, so sorry." She gently pried the tie from her daughter's grip and tried to dry it with a tissue that came out of nowhere. Mothers must be magical, Cas thought. "I- she doesn't normally do this-"

"No, it's okay. No harm done." She patted his still damp tie and apologized once more, before quickly wheeling away her cart. He could hear the squealing child in the distance.

When Castiel turned back to the general direction of Dean, he found the hunter done with the shopping. He was smiling fondly at Cas, his eyes filled with a rare warmth.

"Good with kids, aren't you?" Dean shook his head and headed to the nearest counter. Castiel fell into step beside him. "You'd make a great fairy godparent."

"Have you ever thought about children?" He looked back to Dean and was surprised to see a wistful look on his face.

"Yeah. I had a daughter once." At Castiel's stare, he added,"long story." He paused to grab half a dozen jars of Nutella (Sam did say not to get five jars of peanut butter). "I don't want to bring a kid into my mess though. No one deserves to have this kind of life forced on them."

In moments like this, it was easy to pretend they were anything but who they were: an angel stripped of his wings, and a hunter who killed for a living. Dean had a point, children were not meant to grow up in those environments.

"Why? Do you want kids?"

"Nephilim are-"

"Human kids. Adoption's an option." Dean snorted. "Huh, that rhymed."

"No, I was just... curious, but I guess I'd feel guilty about exposing a young child to the supernatural."

They reached the counter and their conversation stopped as a woman scanned their purchases. "So, how long you two been together?" 

Castiel, who had yet to grasp the art of small talk, answered, "eight years." Dean, standing behind Cas, spluttered, but didn't bother correcting him.

The woman's eyes widened as she rang up their total. "Mm, so this is serious, then?"

"Well, we do share a profound bond." At that, Castiel took the bags and waited for Dean as he paid cash.

"Lucky you," she gave Dean an appraising stare as the couple walked out.

In the car, Dean brought up the topic again. "We've been together eight years?" Cas placed the bags carefully in the back seat.

"The moment I touched your soul, I knew every part of you. It was impossible not to love you." He could say it no plainer than that.

And if he could, Dean would live in this moment for an eternity. The way Cas's rough voice sent pleasant shivers down his spine, his eyes impossibly blue and his voice ringing with truth and sincerity. The way Dean's heart skips a beat and he can't think of anything to say.

His brain yells at him to do something, to stop staring at the miracle sitting beside him in his car. It doesn't help that Cas is looking back at him just as intensely, like he could do it forever. Screw it, Dean decides. He leans forward and Cas meets him halfway, breath catching in his throat.

They end up returning to the bunker later than they expected.

**Author's Note:**

> this is why i should not be allowed a laptop at 3 am  
> also i have a tumblr: silver-parseltongues.tumblr.com


End file.
